Two sides, each with the same needs: space, food, shelter, safety. More in common than not. Divided by groundless mistrust and a need to control, which feeds the mistrust, making it seem justified, and the other side's reactions to it interpreted as clear reason for more mistrust.
I try creating territories. I spend a small fortune on a portable pen, a portable wall. Slowly, slowly. I hold them side by side, not letting them bite one another. Touching. Tense. They will see that they are one family. Slowly, slowly. Back in their adjoining pens they approach the mesh wall. They face one another. One lowers its head, extending its nose to be groomed. Groom me, he says. I will accept your subservience. Groom me.
There is a long moment of frozen stillness.
The other bites the first one's nose.
I create two walls, with a space between.
Each side believes it is my favorite; each believes that time it spends away from the pen with me shows that it is more special to me; that, I, the source of all food, water, safety and shelter, think it more righteous than the other. Each believes I support its refusal to make nice with the other. I just want the wall to come down, for peace to rule, for life to become simple again.
I think, God has a very tough job.